words I've been playing around with

Apparently I post everything these days. The first one is a story-poem I made up for Jenny when she challenged me to use the word "municipal." The second two sound angry, but they're not actually aimed at anyone. I promise.

Bar Fight

People constantly compare him to Steven Segal
Because he's fat and has a ponytail.
At eighteen Rick joined the marines.
But he didn't really fit in
With the hard drinking tough guys
So he never re-enlisted. His GI bill
Was wasted
On community college
Accounting classes
That he only attended briefly.

Rick never misses the Presbyterian Singles' dance
Held bi-monthly at the municipal building downtown.
He only dances if someone brings their daughter
Perches her feet on his loafers and waltzes in time to an Abba song.

At 36 and four days
He bet a guy down the bar twenty dollars
That the 'Skins would "whoop" the Packers.
When the score was 28 to three
The bald widower began to gloat.
Rick called him a jackass and
Ended up on the ground, his barstool tipped over
In a pile of broken glass. The manager on duty
Yells that he's on the phone with the cops
As Rick slips out the door
Wondering where he'll watch the fourth quarter.


We're completely cool

you and I - me and you.
there's nothing there anymore
you're a ghost
a fading memory
translucent film
the sharpied X on your hand
you can barely make out
the next day after you've showered.
I don't quite recall what we fought about
how it felt when our eyes met
or the fissure that opened
in my chest when you broke the news
like someone just told me
I was dying
or I'd discovered that
the world wasn't round.
I'm no longer a conductor for our spark
not a semi-conductor
I insulate.
when I'm awake at night you're not the cause
it's heartburn
or stress from work
or maybe some other girl.
and that guy you knew isn't here
I pawned him and lost the claim ticket.
he joined the french foreign legion.
the guy left here doesn't care about the past
doesn't wonder what if
doesn't shed a single tear.
he's alzheimer's
he's amnesia
he's empty.
this isn't good-bye
it's a shrug.


Does your hate keep you warm at night?
Does your bitterness tuck you in?
Does reliving every detail
Of every time you've been wronged
Erase a scar, negate a single tear?
Is your anger justified?
Did the world give you plenty of reasons
To take up your cross
Nail your arms to its timbers
On a hilltop for all to see.

Does your pain make the world spin faster?
Does it keep the days from blending into one?
Does it give you at least one thing you can count on
One set of beliefs that won't prove false?
If you grip a bit tighter
Will it scream back at you?
Will it beg you to let go, to go easy
As you smirk and increase the pressure?
Does your fear make you who you are?
'Cause it doesn't do a whole lot for me.

the third law

I've never been much of a science fan, but I have to admit that Newton had it right. Life is all about actions and reactions. It's about the things we do and their consequences. The butterfly effect may be hard to visualize, but there are times when it's abundantly clear that the there are two paths before us, that the decisions we're making in that moment will change everything one way or the other.

I remember back in high school thinking about the future. My whole life I'd planned on attending UNC-Chapel Hill. My dad went there and my older cousin, and I'd been cheering on their basketball team through every triumph and failure since birth. They're one of the best schools in the country. Their campus is sprawling and beautiful. They have a great journalism program and I wanted to write. It was perfect. I knew I was smart enough, but I was also lazy. I'd sit there in my room some nights, when I had a history paper to write or a Physics test to study for, and I'd say to myself, "This is important. If you don't get into Carolina, this will be the reason why." And I knew it was true. But I still just sat there. I watched TV or listened to music and I didn't do what needed to be done. Sure enough, when senior year came, I sent in my application and got back the thin letter instead of the thick one. So I went to ECU instead. And in some ways it was perfect. I had some great professors, I met some wonderful people, and I still call Greenville my home. I like my life, but what if it could have been better? Maybe I would have challenged myself more. Maybe my Carolina friends and teachers would have inspired me. Maybe I'd have a career by now and a family and home. Or maybe I would have been miserable and dropped out, be living with my parents and working at the Christian Book Store of Lumberton. The sixteen-year-old me wasn't psychic. He couldn't predict all the details. But he knew there would be consequences.

Two years ago I was dating this girl. I thought it was going to be for real, but things happened and we broke up and I was miserable. In my frustration, I wrote a blog much like this one detailing the things that annoyed me about her. I didn't think she knew where the blog was and I didn't think she'd ever read it. She did and she was hurt and furious. We weren't talking a lot at the time, but I still had hope that we'd get back together eventually. At the end of the post I turned it around. I said that the little things that should annoy me didn't really and that they actually made me smile since they were part of her and I loved her. I'm still not sure if she made it down that far or not, but it didn't matter. No amount of explaining or apologizing or begging and pleading made things any better. Now she's engaged to someone else. Honestly, I'm honestly happy for her. I've moved on and I've kissed other girls and I've realized that we probably wouldn't have worked our regardless. But who knows what would have happened if I hadn't have written that post. Maybe we would have gotten back together and be married right now. Maybe I would have just gotten in the way and kept her from meeting the real love of her life. Maybe things would have happened the same but we'd still be friends at least, we'd have more to say to each other than "how's it going?" Two lives were altered because I made a choice.

Truth is, there's not much point in looking back. It's not that it's wrong to regret. I regret the times I've hurt people. The terrible things I've said and the wrong things I've done. I regret the tears that other people have shed because I made a stupid mistake. But I can't remake those decisions. And maybe I wouldn't want to. What I can do is think more carefully about the ones I make in the future. I can take my time and not act on emotion. I can let God continue to teach me the value of silence and give me a heart that's more compassionate. I still can't predict the future and I won't know for sure where each path leads, but if I do what's right and honorable and decent, then everything will work out for the best.